Kiss your girl in thick of it,
The lush green chaotic knot of jungle,
Kiss her all night long,
To the tune of the hyenas' choral screech,
Take your girl to the river bank,
And spoon water into her parched mouth,
Point out the flocks of gulls that come to rest,
Near the hyenas across the pond, who wait for you.
Sit with your girl on the cliff tops,
And watch the amber sunlight pour into the clouds,
Kiss her perfect lips,
And ignore the hyenas' stares.
Walk your girl to the open plains,
And mishear her calling you her boy,
For the hyenas' are far too distracting.
Leave her there, for them.
How did you manage to open up my closed-up heart? Did you not notice the big bold red "SOLD" sign bolstered to the door?
Or did you perhaps slip in through one of the windows?
And why did you simply ignore the contents thereof? Did fate lead you to the empty little room at the back? Away from the clutter and noise that my life has stored?
That is my favourite room, you know. My little "getaway". Little did I know that on that day "getting away" meant running straight into your arms.
I resisted at first, of course . . The familiarity of the room was replaced by your presence. . . by the unexpected familiarity of you . . .
And day by day I would return to that haven, and still, you were there, waiting.. until you became such a part of my daily routine that I stopped resisting and started looking forward to my stolen moments of "solitude".
I can hardly remember the days without you in it . . and that room would seem awfully empty and lonely without you.
From there be LIFE; And Life your Own dictate
Which No-One in Wisdom Violate must
Even I - the Bard his Ego verbate
Shun my Trumpets forge your Support and Trust
Three Years when since your Rightful Ignore
As Cunningly Thankful my Healing teach
To Know - and Accept - such Freedom you Adore
Your Choice-of-Bonds must Preserve out-of-reach
To Succumb this Jewel we call RESPECT
Ensures this World our Everlasting Bliss
Which you and your Lad thrive in such Aspect
We Realised Sinners comfort your Miss.
Your Hero once more from Stonewall be Praised
Though Compassion should our Fortiments raised.
Don't tell Mr. Ippy
He's leaking a lot.
He'll protest until you're
Convinced he is not.
And, don't tell Mr. Ippy
He's losing his hair.
Oh, he'll rant,
And he'll rage
He's so very much there!
He is an awful nice person
When you're not around.
He's quite level-headed,
With both feet on the ground...
Though sometimes he seems
Just a bit overwound,
He's friendly as can be,
And acts quite neighborly.
So, don't tell Mr. Ippy
His voice has a squeak.
Just nod on and off,
And let the man speak.
Perhaps he's a something
We all ought to hear!
He has things to say,
So we should lend an ear.
Don't tell him his eyebrows
Keep moving around,
Searching for something
They haven't yet found.
And they really don't like it
When we notice them twitch.
As if we've just witnessed
They're losing their stitch.
He'll tell you you're mad,
That you've rust in your clinker,
He'll think you've gone daft,
That you've frazzled your thinker.
And he'll steer clear away
When you come into view.
He'll start to believe
What he's heard about you.
Don't tell him
We know he is no
Although he's been
Boasting of that
For a year.
And don't remind him
His glasses are
Three inches thick.
Or that the frames
Seem to look like an
Old licorice stick.
He's a feisty crustmudgeon,
An ornery bloke.
He's an eccentric old dodge,
From irascible folk.
Yes, his tempermnent's so
That it frightens the day.
It chases the doodads
And whodones away.
So, he yells at the sun -
That it's far, far too bright.
And when it is done,
The man yells at the night.
And when night has finished,
And twilight is here,
Mr. Ippy, convinced that
He's made his point clear,
Heads off to bed
Where he sleeps in his tree.
Somehow that seems
Perfectly normal to me.
He's one of a kind,
When there are two,
Or three near.
And we really don't mind
Just don't call him peculiar,
Eerie, or queer.
Don't tell him he's
Goofy, or dull,
He never will listen.
And he'll do it with grace.
With such grand denial painted
All over his face.
From the right roundy eyebrows
That skittle and skee,
To the erld yeller somethings
That ought not to be.
And trust me,
Cannot take much more.
Sometimes it is better
To simply ignore
The oddness of people
Who seem a bit strange.
He is set in his ways,
And he never will change.
And the man's every right
To see things his way.
He's every good reason
To be him today.
And I'm not one to smidg-ell
The blue from his sky.
I'll not ruin his cheery-do-fair,
Why should I?
He's always been a right
Singular fellow to me.
He is as fine as
A bloke ought to be.
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"Love your neighbor as yourself;
but don't take down the fence."
Poem a day, day 5
Crying stings my eyes
Even that's not going right for me today
Yesterday I breathed
And wondered if that's enough.
Today I breathed
And could almost wish I hadn't
Wouldn't have minded a fuck today actually
Another thing that didn't go my way
Thanks for pointing that out.
Now could just do with a hug
And some decadent food
Yip great coping mechanism, I don't care.
I will probably care tomorrow.
Oh well, today is crap
I will ignore consequences
And tomorrow will look after itself
how do we become so vulnerable
how do we let people in so quick
the feels in the begining
not so great feels
feeling of 'i know this is not going to end well'
but you go on anyway
when we distinguish right from wrong
left or right
we take left because it's not right
we get hurt when they lead us on
but whose really leading you on
it seems more like we set ourselfs up
we lead our hearts on
tricking them into believeing it'll be ok
if we keep moving left
when our mind is telling us right
we choose to ignore the signs
then we hurt
as predicted we took the wrong stroll
met wrong people
gave them our thoughts
gave them our lips
the catch of an eyes
gave them touch
gave them your mind
but moat of all
you gave them your heart
they took it
and tore it
you're vulnerable now.
You write depressing poetry you lay in your bed for hours wasting time rocking yourself back a forth with tears streaming down your face and you cry until you can't you stare at the ceiling and you go crazy you want to scream and punch things you want to hold a gun your head and pull the trigger you want to die you want to hurt her but you want to hold and love her at the same time you want to shout you want to throw things you ignore it and you don't ignore it you sink into your darkness and let it consume you you burn because that's all you have left to do you burn with each memory and laugh as it sears your skin and fire rips through your veins and your heart thuds in your chest and you can't breathe. I don't know I don't know because that's all I know how to do I can't tell you how to stop loving someone or how to heal from your sadness because I'm still searching for that answer myself.
Cue the ever-prominent darkness;
Wake up in night, and feel the chill
Of snow and of the stress
Resting on the window sill.
Feel it all around you;
This giant contradiction
Of happiness and tears.
You never spoke, but always knew
Of the below-zero affliction
That covered you in frost each year.
Cue the endless strings of lights;
Let the trees and houses glow
But it’s all an effort to block out night;
This you hate, but this you know.
Fear of midnight skies only rises
When snowflakes start to fall
And time seems to slip away;
We get by with our harmless disguises,
Forcing our minds away from it all
Until we wake to the light of day.
Cue the tray of hot cocoa;
Pair it with a candy cane
The warmth is sweet, but it is faux
And the mint walks you down memory lane.
But you don’t want to remember
No, you don’t want to relive innocence
You can’t go back to your Santa Claus days
For you want to love December;
You live the month with wistfulness,
But you cannot ignore the pain.
Well you know that I sip on my sadness, my dear,
Filthy palms, filled to the brim.
And I know that you watch those trains passing by
Dizzy eyed, still drunk with sin.
Your teeth reek of reality lately,
You smile facts, figures and cracked calcium.
Now, once more with cupped hands leaking, shaking
Delirium up to your chin.
Well I know that I’ve missed the point, honey
I should get it tattooed on my wrists,
But you know that you talk like firecrackers
So flinching gets awful hard to resist.
I make believe that I’m right like craters
make moons believe.
So I’ll comment on comets and ignore truths
popping between parentheses.
You say, “It’s fiction we live in
You play in pastels
and fake hollywood rhythms
and I’m tired, staring up at your screen.
You're addicted to this diction
My voice is lost, screaming
these words you keep stealing
and twist for yourself what they mean."
Sometimes we sit soaked to the waist in nothing
Fringe Wolves snarl, drool and moan;
I’m afraid that this desert’s left them starving
They crave marrow within bone.
Dripping teeth, curled clawed toes and howling
I swear they feed every time that we breathe.
By cinderblock, flashfloods or whirlpools
Just drown us properly.
Well, one day we’ll resurface to find ghosts reborn
from hallowed shells of Fringe Wolves
Who waltz wicked and crooked a foxtrot to show
sometimes loss is beautiful.
And when I ask for your hand you’ll look tragic
like you never saw what I see
When you walk away, I’m toe-tapping
to some song you kept whispering.
You say, “It’s fiction we live in.
It’s intended for men like you,
but I've watched you drain out in my palm."
This clothing, from bedpost to box-spring,
It's all wax-coats and smoke screens,
live lit-candle lasting
When did skin begin to fit wrong?
So when they ask for me at the after party
With neon eyes and harlot tongues,
You can tell them I traded this stale air in
For forest fires and tornado lungs.
'Cause I’ve been reading up in matchbooks
how to ignite with star-gazer eyes.
So feel free to maintain your Truth
but pardon me while I burn up in Lie.
it does not do
to count to You
if only love is true.
i cannot ignore
that sleeps beyond the blue